‘No, that’s not proof,’ Kyabine replied.
Pavel picked up a cigarette, put the case back in his pocket, lit the cigarette, and said: ‘I told you one of my good deeds, Kyabine. Now piss off!’
Kyabine just sat there brooding.
8
SOON AFTER THIS, as it was his turn, Kyabine went to fetch dinner.
He came back and we ate outside the tent in silence. The oil lamp was on top of the crate and it illuminated our faces. We were very comfortable. It had been a brilliant idea to bring the sleepers here. Whatever we did — playing dice or eating meals — there they were, right in front of the tent. If they hadn’t been so heavy, we would have taken them everywhere with us.
Kyabine stopped eating. ‘Sifra!’
‘Yes, Kyabine.’
‘Do you believe that story about Pavel’s caterpillar?’
Sifra looked embarrassed. He waited before replying. He liked Kyabine, he liked him a lot. Pavel and I liked him too, of course, but we also liked taking the piss out of him. Sifra was more considerate towards him.
In a kind voice, he answered: ‘I don’t know, Kyabine.’
Kyabine didn’t dare ask me what I thought. Anyway, he knew that I would back Pavel up. He started eating again and suddenly he said: ‘I think you talk a lot of crap, Pavel!’
Pavel didn’t reply.
‘Yes, Pavel, yes, you talk so much crap!’ Kyabine said.
Pavel stopped eating. He picked up his cigarette case, opened it and took out a cigarette, which he handed to Kyabine. Kyabine took it from him and put it on the crate in front of him. He thought for a bit and then he asked: ‘Why did you give me that?’
‘So you’ll stop giving me shit.’
Kyabine started to laugh. He looked at the cigarette and said: ‘If that’s how it works, I’m going to keep giving you shit.’
He was very pleased with himself for being so clever. He looked up at the sky. Then, after a while, he leaned towards Pavel and, to put his cleverness into practice, said to him: ‘You talk so much crap, Pavel, that no one believes you any more. You think you’re conning me, Pavel, but you’re not. Not at all. I don’t believe a word of the crap you spout. For a start, show me where you pissed on the ants!’
Pavel calmly picked up his cigarette case, took out a cigarette and placed it in front of Kyabine. Kyabine sat there frozen. He didn’t say another word. He hadn’t really expected his cleverness to work. What I mean is, he hadn’t actually believed that Pavel would give him another cigarette so he would stop giving Pavel shit. He stared at Pavel in surprise.
We could now feel the warmth from the fires that the company had lit outside the tents. The woodsmoke drifted over to us. It was good to smoke a cigarette with that smell in the air.
Kyabine, taking a drag on his, continued to stare at Pavel with that surprised look on his face.
9
THE AIR GREW damp and we went inside the tent. We lay down under our blankets. We spread our coats on top of them because it still got cold at night. The blankets were dirty and Sifra, in his soft woman’s voice, suggested we wash them in the pond tomorrow. We all agreed.
Kyabine said: ‘If you want, Sifra, I’ll wash yours.’
‘Why?’
‘To pay you back for the tobacco.’
Sifra said in a kind voice, as if he was asking him for a favour: ‘I’d rather you gave it back to me, Kyabine.’
Abruptly, Pavel sat up and asked: ‘Who’s got the watch?’
I remembered that I had it. I passed it to Pavel because it was his turn to sleep with it. Not for the watch itself, since the mechanism was broken, but for the photograph of a woman that was inside it. It was nice to sleep with that photograph. We imagined that it brought us luck. We didn’t know why. I reckon, deep down, we didn’t really believe it brought us luck. But we liked to think it did.
Pavel, Kyabine and I took turns to sleep with it. But not Sifra. It was hard to understand why. None of us had ever asked him. And yet he was the one who’d taken the watch from the corpse of a cavalry officer in Galicia, along with the boots he was wearing. He wears the boots, I thought to myself, so why doesn’t he want to sleep with the photograph in the watch?
One day Pavel said to me that Sifra had perhaps never slept with a woman, so sleeping with the photograph didn’t have any meaning for him. Maybe it was that. But I was sure that Kyabine had never slept with a woman either, and that didn’t stop him taking his turn with the photograph.
I didn’t tell Pavel that I had never slept with a woman either.
Pavel was probably the only one who had.
10
FOR A MOMENT after Pavel touched my arm, I didn’t really know what was going on or where I was. Pavel touched my arm again. Now I was awake. We put on our boots, picked up our coats and quietly slipped out of the tent.
The fires were almost burned out. The embers glowed in the night. We put on our coats and left the camp. We walked in silence over to the pile of railway sleepers. From there we went into the field and headed towards the pond.
Pavel crouched down by the edge of the water. I remained standing, as far away as possible. All the same I could hear him sobbing. Sometimes I also heard a faint noise on the surface of the pond. Last night there’d been the sound of the wind, which had drowned out all the other noises.
We went out together every night, Pavel and I, and had done ever since we left the forest. Every night Pavel dreamed that Sifra cut his throat. It was a horrible dream. He woke up in terror. So he needed to get out of the tent and he needed me to go with him. We came here to the pond, or sometimes we stopped at the pile of sleepers. Occasionally, although it was rare, he wept like he was doing tonight, and then he felt better. Sometimes I thought to myself that it was probably in this way, for Pavel, that the winter in the forest continued to live inside him. But neither Pavel nor I understood why Sifra should be the killer in his dreams. Sifra was so gentle and sweet with us, he was such a good comrade.
If it was me who cut his throat every night, I thought, I would be very unhappy. And then it probably wouldn’t be me who he needed to come with him to help him calm down.
Pavel’s sobs died down.
I remained standing and I looked at the surface of the pond. I would have liked to move closer to Pavel, but I thought it was better to wait until he wanted me to.
I continued to wait, and it seemed to me that Pavel was hardly crying any more and that he now wanted me to go to him. He hadn’t made any sign, he hadn’t moved or anything, but I sensed that he wanted me with him now. So I went over and crouched down next to him.
He took out his cigarette case, opened it and held it out to me. I took one and we smoked, almost peacefully, as we looked at the pond.
Pavel wasn’t crying at all any more. He breathed the smoke out between his legs. We were nice and warm in our coats and I would have liked to find something to say to console him.
On our way back Pavel took long strides through the grass. He’d opened his coat and it was flapping against his legs. I hadn’t thought of anything to say to him on the bank of the pond, and I had given up trying to find the right words.
I just asked him: ‘You all right, Pavel?’
‘Yeah.’
We reached the pile of sleepers in front of the train tracks and we turned onto the path that led to the camp. The night was still very dark. There was no moon and dawn was still a long way off.
11
WE HAD TO go on an expedition the next day. We knew about it, because they’d told us in advance, but we’d forgotten. Sergeant Ermakov came to fetch us at dawn. We got dressed and left the camp behind him, dragging our heels.